It’s been a while since I’ve been out collecting images for Random Roadside Friday. I will confess to having been thoroughly beaten by the heat and although I did make the trip to Savannah a few weeks back, I’ve been mostly spending the summer in or near the community pool.
I have acquired more of a tan this summer than I have had since I was 19. You don’t get tan in San Francisco. It is against the law. This is my third summer in Florida and I have also begun to acquire some other Florida habits, like acting as if severe thunderstorms are no reason to stay indoors and wearing flip-flops for all occasions.
A few days ago, Mr. B. and I went to Silver Springs, and on the way back I detoured off the road in search of a fish camp at the edge of Orange Lake. I missed my target and ended up in Citra, where I snapped an old market and a peeling sign for a hitherto-unknown-to-me variety of orange. Upon investigation, this orange turned out to be a formerly commonplace midseason variety. I liked the idea, though, of an orange with a pineapple nuance. Or a grapefruit with a tinge of pomegranate, or a lem-lime or a cantaguava.The pictures below are an assortment of something I will elegantly call “stuff.” They have no raison d’etre and belong in no category other than random. I carry a camera in my purse, in my hand, and sometimes jammed inelegantly into my underwear. (Why, you ask? Why, because sometimes I like to have my hands free.)
Poolside sunset at my apartment complex. The sunsets have been pretty spectacular this year.
Yes, that is a schlong. Enlarge the pic for a close-up.
Another taken at my apartment complex.
Mr. B. arrives back in Gainesville from his trip to Virginia.
Another poolside. I love swimming at this time of day.
Remember when all markets used to look like this? And bag boys had a big smile and enjoyed going outdoors in the foulest of weathers? Remember when “May I help you?” really meant that you would get pleasant, congenial service and not lip from a cashier angered because you showed up at the drive-through window during the cashier’s texting break?
Citra once had packing plants. Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings sent her oranges here to be crated. And then the frostline moved south.